


shake me down (cut my hair on a silver cloud)

by DirtyRottenRaskel



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cute times ahead, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, also mac has haircut anxiety, but jack is super sweet about it, but like if you squint it’s a fade to black, jack and Mac take a bath, jack is extra af, macdalton, slight angst, they don’t the frick frack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 12:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19745497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyRottenRaskel/pseuds/DirtyRottenRaskel
Summary: It was a haircut. A goddamn haircut. Just a semi-uniform shortening of stands of keratin atop his head. It shouldn’t mean so much to him.And yet, it did.Asking Jack to cut his hair for him felt like such an personal, intimate gesture that even the thought of it made Mac’s heart swell and stomach roll.





	shake me down (cut my hair on a silver cloud)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my very first MacGyver fic and i’m so so hyped!!! i had a whole bunch of angsty ideas floating around (and i’ll prob do those later bc i am a slut for whump!mac) but i kept getting stuck on the idea of Jack cutting Mac’s hair???? blame it on this glorious fic - unapologetic with you tonight (nothing to hide) . 
> 
> they have to cut Mac’s hair in the shower bc i need Jack washing Mac’s hair in the fluffiest and most loving way possible ok. also haircuts get messy so like doing it in the shower is just logical lmao. 
> 
> anyways!!!! plz enjoy!!!

Mac let his head hit the wall in front of him with a dull thud. It was a haircut. A goddamn haircut. Just a semi-uniform shortening of stands of keratin atop his head. It shouldn’t mean so much to him.

And yet, it did.

His hair has been used against him, op after op, as a way to drag him up off the ground, a way to hold him in place as they waterboarded him with Nitrogen, a way to keep him down and on his knees. But Mac refused to cut it, partially because he was insubordinate and wouldn’t know a policies and procedures book if Matty hit him over the head with it. But also because some part of him felt that his long hair, the way it wisped across the back of his neck and the way it fell just inside his line of sight when he was concentrating, made him, _him_.

Asking Jack to cut his hair for him felt like such an personal, intimate gesture that even the thought of it made Mac’s heart swell and stomach roll.

It wasn’t like he actively rejected intimacy per-say, Mac just wasn’t inherently comfortable with it. But he was working on it. Because he loves Jack, and intimacy and trust are some of the biggest ways Mac can show him that. With that, he resolutely squared his shoulders and set off to find Jack.

————————

With the way Mac marched into the living room, jaw tight, shoulders tense, a shadow of fear welling up in his crystal blue eyes, one would’ve thought he was about to break the news of a beloved friend’s death.

What came out of his mouth though, threw Jack for a loop.

“Run that by me again, hoss,” he asked, “because it sounds like you came in here lookin’ like you’re about to tell me you ran over my dear ol’ grandma, and then asked me to cut your hair.”

“Which I’m happy to do, by the way,” Jack added quickly, trying to ease the skittish look on his boyfriend’s face.

Mac stayed where he was, but a minute amount of the tension stringing up his body eased away. An amount that would have been imperceivable to anyone else, anyone but Jack. He took that as a sign that it was ok to come rest a gentle hand on Mac’s shoulder, gathering the blonde into a full body hug when he sagged into the physical contact.

He guided the younger man to the couch, where they both collapsed into a heap of limbs as Jack ran his hands through Mac’s hair, gently separating the strands.

Mac took a deep breath, and then another, before he found the words he was looking for.

“People use my hair as a, a weapon...against me,” he started out, “but I don’t, that’s not, I don’t want to...to think of it? That way? I guess.”

His hands clenched and unclenched against Jack’s chest, belaying how emotional he was. Jack’s heart hammered against his ribs, pounding out how important and special this version of Mac was to him, because not many people got to see this raw and vulnerable Mac. This was all his.

Mac blinked at Jack, eyes wide with focus. “I want something else to associate with it, something positive. From someone I love. From you.”

Worried brows knit themselves into a more deeply furrowed line as he awaited Jack’s reply.

“Oh Mac, oh Mac baby, anything for you. Anything and everything for you, ya just gotta ask,” Jack murmured as he surged up to capture MacGyver‘s lips with his own. He could feel them pull tight with a smile, as Mac leaned away to grin at him.

“I love you,” he whispered, each word punctuated with a soft peck.

Jack happily accepted kiss after kiss, placing one last one on Mac’s lips before he pulled away to rest his forehead against Mac’s.

“How you wanna do this?”

“I mean, I figured you could just take your knife and, uh, make it shorter?”

Jack huffed out a soft laugh at that.

“Nah baby,” he smiled, “if we do this, we gonna do it right. How about tomorrow night, yeah? Matty has us on a local recon mission tomorrow, so we should be back home in plenty of time.”

A deep blush stained Mac’s cheeks. “Yeah, yeah ok. I think....I think sounds good.”

————————

Jack was glad he grabbed the supplies he needed for tonight before their stakeout, because shit hit the fan a lot quicker than either of them had anticipated.

What had been originally just recon of a local drug ring went sideways pretty fast when not one, but two of the FBI’s most wanted walked in the warehouse door. Phoenix wasn’t very well about to let two domestic terrorists walk away, so one misappropriated phone and a couple of cans of Hydrochloric Acid later, the two felons found themselves bound and unconscious in the back of Jack’s truck.

After dropping the still trussed up scumbags in the war room, Jack hightailed it back to Mac’s house, the blond right beside him.

Once they arrived, Mac’s eyes cut suspiciously over to the bag in Jack’s hand.

“What’s that,” he asked.

A shit eating grin lit up Jack’s face. “Just a couple something somethings to help my partner feel as good as possible. Why don’t you go strip and find us some good tunes while I get everything set up. Meet me in the bathroom when you’re ready.”

Mac wiggled his brows, heart lighter and warmer than it had been in a long, long time.

He did as he was told, strolling in through his house, coming to pause in his room. He turned to look at the bed, sheets rumbled and strewn about, evidence of last nights, uh, activities.

The nerves came crashing back into Mac the second he stripped his shirt off. Fear and uncertainty worked their way into his head, tapping little cracks into his earlier feelings of safety and comfort.

He was about to be naked, stripped bare, in front of the man he loved. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They’d had sex before, lots of naked, sweaty sex, so why the hell was Mac freaking out about this so much?

He fisted his hands in his blond locks, partially tempted to just tear them out in order to avoid this whole thing entirely. This thing that he had specifically asked for. Damn he was fucked up.

As if sensing his parter’s impending anxiety, Jack slid behind him, pressing his own bare chest against Mac’s back. One of his hands rubbed a slow up and down pattern onto his side, encouraging Mac to slow his breathing down to match the rhythm.

Jack grabbed Mac’s phone from where he had left it on the bedside table, and pressed play on whatever Mac had queued up. Soft jazz spilled from the Bluetooth speaker Jack had left in the bathroom, bringing a smile to Jack’s face at Mac’s inner romantic.

He led the blonde into the bathroom, tugging Mac forward when he paused slightly at the sight of the filled bath in front of him.

“I thought we were just going to cut my hair,” Mac whispered.

Jack ran a hand through the aforementioned blonde locks, “I told you I was gonna do this right, didn’t I? That means the full treatment baby.”

He slid his hand down until their fingers where interlaced, pausing only a moment before spinning Mac gently, curling him in so they were face to face.

“Welcome to the Jack Dalton Spa, darlin’,” he drawled.

Mac’s face split into a grin, a surprised laugh spilling out of him. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Jack’s jawline before stepping into the often neglected claw footed tub in his bathroom.

The water was just barely on this side of too warm, the perfect temperature in his opinion. Upon sliding down into the silky smooth water, a familiar scent hit his nose.

“Is that balsam?”

“Hell yeah it is. I know how much you love it, ya bring it home every time you go to that Bath Works store.”

“It’s Bath and Body Works, which you know, because not all of those candles under the sink are mine, you three wick slut.”

“Ok fine, fine, stop hating on an old man, jeez. They just occasionally happen to have a good deal on some nice smelling shit, that’s all.”

Mac laughed, head lolling back onto the rim of the tub. He hummed softly.

“‘s nice, to just laugh with you like this. Thank you Jack,” his eyes dark with sincerity.

Jack kissed the crown of his head, “Of course sweetheart.”

He settled in behind Mac, crossed legged on the towel he had folded on the floor behind the tub so he could lean against the wall for as long as it took to pamper Mac to Jack’s contentment.

Reaching for the bag he had next to him, the Texan grabbed the wide toothed comb and began to gently run it through Mac’s hair. Each stroke was followed by a soothing hand, so that the two were in constant contact.

He felt the blonde’s forehead tense as he scrunched his brows together before he heard him pout, “‘m not a kid. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah I know I don’t have to. I get to. Every day I get to spend with you is a gift, alright sunshine? This is as much for me as it is for you. Seeing you all blissed out like this, being open and trusting me with all this? Wouldn’t trade this for the world,” he confessed, trailing kisses down the side of his head, before coming to nip at the top of Mac’s ear. “Plus, the view from right here is pretty sweet, if I do say so myself.”

Blushing, Mac relented his soft protests and let the man he loves do as he wished.

The comb swished softly through his hair, untangling the strands from one another. Mac shuddered as the plastic brushed along his scalp, his whole body erupting in goosebumps in response. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. After all, this is Jack. His best friend, his partner, his boyfriend. He giggled at that thought. He had a _boyfriend_.

The little nerd with the stupid hamburger name, the loner who fiddled with spare parts by himself in the corner in grade school, the EOD tech with a heart even bigger than his brain, had landed himself a boyfriend. And that man was Jack, his guardian, his Overwatch, his anchor.

So lost in his sappy musings, Mac wasn’t even aware of what Jack was doing next until the scent of grapefruit oil hit his nose. The older man was running his oiled hands through the ends of Mac’s hair, which was, admittedly, probably a little dry. Running around saving the world every other day does not lush hair make.

He worked his way up from the tips, all the way to the roots of his hair, caressing the oil into his boyfriend’s long locks. Jack beamed at the look of pure bliss on his boy’s face, not feeling bad in the slightest when he gripped a little harder and tugged, just enough to get one of those beautiful startled littles gasps out of him.

Normally, Mac hated people touching his hair, and hated people pulling his hair even more than that. Yet, somehow, Jack was so far into the “safe” classification in his head, that the only thing that registered in his mind when Jack tugged gently on his har was hot. Damn, he was a goner for this man.

It only got better as Jack began to massage into his scalp, gun calloused fingers finding every sweet spot on his head before making their was down his neck, and digging into the tight knots of his shoulders.

Cursing softly, the blonde arched his head back, subconsciously exposing more of his neck to Jack’s impossibly talented hands. The grapefruit oil made every movement smooth, letting Mac slip further into this rare state of relaxation.

“Hey, buddy, I’m gonna go ahead and wash this stuff out of your hair, yeah?” Jack asked, before picking up the warm pitcher next to him. “I need you to sit forward just a bit so I don’t dump this whole thing on your bathroom floor.”

Mac nodded and leaned forward into the hand on his forehead that kept the water from hitting him in the face. He was so far out of touch with reality that he barely registered Jack lathering the shampoo into his hair. What he did pick up on, however, was the sudden weight on top of his head, almost as if-

“Jack, did you give me a mohawk,” he asked incredulously.

The accused man just shrugged, grin splitting across his face. “Thought we could match, that’s all.”

After washing the faux hawk from his hair, Mac’s laughter died away, tension quickly crawling back into his pale shoulders. This was it, the reason they were here today. Anger sidled up alongside the unease: anger at everyone who had used this as a weapon against him, and more than that, anger at himself for being such a damn child about a stupid haircut.

As if sensing his internal turmoil, Jack slide a hand to Mac’s back, running it back and forth across his shoulders until his breathing settled down into a semi-regular pace.

“Let me know when you’re ready love,” Jack said. “We gonna do this whole thing at your pace, alright. You’re in control the whole time here.”

A few deep breaths later, Mac nodded.

Taking the scissors from his lap, he started with the sides, slowly trimming weeks of ops and stress and guilt from his lover’s head. As he made his way to the top, making sure to leave it a little longer because Mac needed something to run his hands through as he concocted impossible schemes, the room was filled with the soft snick of the scissors and the lap of the water against the side of the tub. Belatedly, he realized they still had that soft coffeehouse jazz on too.

He brushed the last of the loose ends to the floor, he could sweep them up later. Jack pressed kiss after kiss to Mac’s neck, his shoulders, his head, every part of him he could reach.

“All done baby, we’re all done. You did so good, so so good!” he praised softly, never ceasing his soft kisses.

Mac turned to face him, tears hanging in the corner of his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I know,” Jack replied.

Mac huffed out a laugh, his grin sharpening into something a little more wicked, “Oh, that’s it, you punk. Get your Wookiee ass in here before I have to do it myself.”

Already halfway out of his pants, Jack was nearly into the tub by the time Mac finished talking.

“Anything for you, sunshine,” he grinned, the lingering humidity wasn’t the only dampness on his cheeks, “anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> did i really google “how to wash your lover’s hair”? yes. yes i did. and it made me feel so damn single lmao. 
> 
> self beta’d, so lmk what you liked and what you didn’t! thanks <3


End file.
